Aubreigne Read online

  Carnage glanced over at Carolena who raised her fingers to her own blouse again.

  “Noo!” Carnage insisted. “Fiss s’irt, NOW!” he ordered, walking over to the boy and beginning to button the shirt for him. The last thing he wanted was Carolena threatening to attend the wedding without her own shirt again.

  Carolena hid a grin as she turned away while Carnage got Boon’s shirt on him the right way.

  “Boon, you didn’t even brush your hair,” Lily said.

  “Yes, I did. I brushed it yesterday!” he insisted.

  “Brush it again,” Carolena said.

  “I don’t get what the big deal is. Nobody’s gonna be looking at me anyway. They’re going to be looking at Deaumanique,” he complained.

  “The big deal is everybody is going to be dressed up. We don’t want to embarrass Momma by being the only family that doesn’t,” Lily answered, pulling Boon back to his room by the hand to brush his hair properly.

  “That boy…” Carolena said, shaking her head.

  Carnage chuckled.

  “Yeah, I know he’s just like you. Still, no reason he can’t make an attempt to look nice when the occasion calls for it,” Carolena said, smiling.

  A few short minutes later, and more than a few ‘ows’ and ‘stop its’, Lily and Boon walked back into the living room. “We’re ready,” Lily announced.

  Boon walked in front of her, scowling, but looking very nice now that Lily had brushed his hair and properly tucked his shirt into his breeches.

  “Let’s go, then. We don’t want to be late,” Carolena said, following her children out onto the deck while Carnage brought up the rear. Carnage pulled their door closed and turned around to follow them toward the staircase and down to the ground. He smiled proudly as he watched them go. They were beautiful. His Carolena the most beautiful female alive as far as he was concerned, and his Lily just as pretty, and she was delicate, too. His son was much like himself, only with Carolena’s blood in him, his features were more refined. He never, ever thought he’d have a family, and people that loved him. He was living a dream.

  “Carnage, are you coming?” Carolena called out from the ground level as he stood at the top of the staircase watching them go.

  “’Es!’ he said, hurrying down the steps to catch up with them, with a huge grin on his face.

  “What are you smiling about?” Carolena asked.

  “Haahpee,” Carnage said, taking her hand in his as they followed the kids on the path leading to Enthrall’s home.

  ~~~

  “Daddy!” a little girl shouted.

  “What? I’m getting dressed,” Destroy answered.

  “But I want you to brush my hair!” Saige said.

  “Give me one minute,” Destroy answered.

  “I can brush your hair, baby,” Rowan called out.

  “No. I want Daddy to do it,” Saige said, pouting, like a typical three-year-old daddy’s girl.

  “Alright, but you don’t have time to play dress up with Daddy today. We have to be ready for the wedding,” Rowan said.

  “Okay,” Saige agreed.

  Ten minutes later Destroy opened his bedroom door and walked down the hallway to Saige’s bedroom. “Okay, Daddy’s here. Now what?” he asked.

  “I want you to brush my hair, and can you put a bow in it?” she asked, climbing up into his lap.

  “I can. But, Mama could have done this, too, you know?” he asked.

  “But I want you to do it,” she said.

  “Alright, turn around,” he said, taking her brush in his hand and beginning to pull it slowly through the thick, dark hair that was just like Rowan’s. As he brushed, he began to sing to her. The melody one he remembered from when he was a little boy and his mother used to sing to him.

  The melody brought Marauder from his room to listen as well. He stood leaning against the door jamb of his sister’s room and wore the same smile she did as they listened to their father singing.

  Rowan, fully dressed in her favorite deep blue dress, walked quietly down the hall and came to a stop behind Marauder. She rested her hands on his shoulders, and hugged him from behind.

  As Saige began to sing with Destroy, Marauder glanced at his mother over his shoulder and smiled, before returning his attention to his little sister and his Dad.

  Once Destroy had brushed through Saige’s hair, he reached his hand out in front of her for her to hand him the ribbon. She gave him a bright pink one that was one of her favorites, and he smiled as he caught her hair up in it and tied it tightly in place, before making a bow out of the long length of ribbon. “There you go. A pretty pink bow for a pretty pink girl,” Destroy said.

  Saige turned around in his lap and smiled at him. “I’m not pink,” she said.

  “Could be. We could paint you pink,” Destroy teased.

  “I think I would like that,” Saige answered, tilting her head down and fluttering her eyelashes at him as she smiled. “Please, can I be pink?” she asked.

  “There’s my girl,” Destroy said. “Always up for a new adventure.”

  He realized he was being watched then, and looked over toward the door. “And my little man! Look at you!” Destroy exclaimed.

  “Dad, I’m not little,” Marauder answered.

  “You’re eight, son. You’re not fifteen, you’re not even eighteen. You’re eight. Until you’re as big as me, I can call you my little man,” Destroy said.

  Marauder groaned in frustration at being called little.

  Rowan pulled him in for another hug from behind. “Don’t be in such a rush to grow up, Rauder. I’ll be sad when you’re not my baby anymore,” she said.

  Marauder turned around and hugged his mother. “Love you, Mama,” he said.

  “Love you, too. You look so handsome,” she said, smoothing her hands over his shirt and jacket. She’d offered him a shirt and breeches, but no — he had to have a full suit.

  “Thank you, but I know,” he said, grinning at her as he made his way back to his room. “Gotta get my hair just right, too,” he said.

  Rowan laughed at him as he teased about making sure he looked nice. Some of it was true, but mostly he just liked to make her and his father laugh.

  “You look beautiful, Row,” Destroy said, walking over to her and taking her in his arms.

  “You look pretty good yourself,” Rowan said. “But, maybe I could put a ribbon or two on your horns, just for old time’s sake,” she teased, kissing his lips before heading toward the kitchen.

  “No, thank you. I’m good,” Destroy answered, following her as she pulled away to walk into the kitchen to check on all the food she had warming and waiting for the reception. Between their home and Enthrall’s, they had all of the dishes that would be served to the guests all ready and prepared.

  “You know the reason she wants you to do her hair is because she likes singing with you, don’t you?” Rowan asked.

  “Yeah, I like that she wants me to sing with her, and do her hair,” he admitted.

  “I do too. It’s sweet,” Rowan said. “I love that she loves her Daddy so much.”

  Destroy heard voices outside and walked into the living room to look out of the windows. “Lore’s here. They’re finishing up setting up the chairs and benches. I’m going to go help. Do you mind?” he asked.

  “Of course not. Go ahead, the children are almost finished, and I’m finishing up here. We’ll be out there once the guests start arriving. I just don’t want to give Rauder or Saige the chance to get dirty until they’ve at least made a clean appearance,” Rowan said, laughing. Rowan finished cleaning her kitchen and dried her hands on the dishtowel she kept nearby. As she turned, she caught Destroy standing and watching her. “What?” she asked.

  “Love you,” he said seriously.

  Rowan smiled at him. “Love you, too.” She watched him, waiting for him to turn and leave the house to go help those setting up for the wedding in the huge clearing between their house and Enthrall’s. It had become
the standard place of celebrations in the community. Kind of like a town square would be, if they were actually in a town. But he didn’t make any effort to go outside yet.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  Destroy stood there, taking in her long, dark hair, the golden complexion of her skin, her dark eyes, and the striking contrast of the royal blue dress she wore against her natural coloring. He shook his head. “Nothing. You’re just so damn beautiful,” he said, walking over to her and taking her in his arms. He backed her up against the cabinets of their kitchen and pressed his body against hers as he claimed her mouth with his. “You drive me crazy, woman,” he said, his lips not even an inch from hers. “Can’t stop wanting you, not ever.”

  Rowan grasped at his biceps as he held her and kissed her. “Want you, too,” she said breathily. “Need you.”

  “I always say I’m the pretty one, but I know better. You. You are the only thing anyone sees when we’re out together,” Destroy said, proud of his woman.

  “Unless I’m there. Then I’m the prettiest,” Rauder said, walking into the room, with his hand over his eyes so he wouldn’t have to see his parents kissing.

  Rowan and Destroy both started laughing.

  “That’s your boy,” Rowan teased.

  Destroy shook his head and quickly kissed her again. “I’m going to help.”

  “We’ll be there in a bit,” Rowan said.

  Chapter 4

  True to his word, Murder found himself standing in the darkest part of Whispers. The part with trees so thick and close together that sunlight rarely found its way to the ground. He’d only just landed, and looked around before a small female, with hair as orange as flame stepped out the surrounding trees and undergrowth to greet him.

  “Hello,” he said, in response to her wave, unable to wave himself due to the two whole haunches of wild boar he carried.

  The female just watched him.

  “I’ve recovered these, and I was told by Simon they may belong to Brannaugh. Is he near?” Murder asked.

  The female hesitated for only a moment before giving him a nod and disappearing into the dense foliage again.

  “Hello?” Murder called out. “I’m looking for Brannaugh!” he shouted.

  Murder just barely picked up the sound of movement through the leaves, branches and shrubbery around him. He tried to listen for footfalls like he’d learned Simon did, but the swampy, spongy floor of the swamp he stood on was damp and covered with dead and decaying leaves, so every step was muffled and practically silent. It wasn’t long before the branches in front of him moved and a male stepped into view.

  “You asked for me?” the male asked.

  Murder nodded. “I did. Simon says these are yours. I’ve come to return them.”

  Brannaugh nodded, with a stiff grin. “Thank you, they are. We searched for them this morning, but only dared going so far inland.”

  “Why? You’ve been invited to the wedding today, have you not?” Murder asked, handing over the shanks of boar.

  “Aye. But we thought it was likely a way to get us all into the open,” Brannaugh admitted.

  “No. The banshee, and the haired one, they came in the past to the gathering Lore arranged. Surely you know they enjoyed themselves and there were no repercussions,” Murder reminded him.

  “Maura,” Brannaugh said.

  “I’m sorry?” Murder asked.

  “Maura, her name is Maura, not Banshee. And the haired one is Dima.”

  “And the girl with the orange hair?” Murder asked.

  “Esma,” Brannaugh answered.

  Murder inclined his head. “I will remember their names. You should bring your friends, join us. It is a happy day. Enthrall would not have made it known that all citizens of Whispers were welcome if he did not mean it.”

  “Not all of us are known,” Brannaugh said, inferring that they didn’t want to deal with the fallout of Enthrall forcing them to leave once he became aware of them.

  Murder paused for a moment then spread his wings in preparation of taking flight. “There is not one of you that we are not aware of to some degree. You all want the same things we do. Freedom — to live, to be happy. You’ve harmed no one and give no indication that you will. As long as you observe the rules, I don’t see Enthrall having a problem with your presence.”

  “Not all will feel welcome there,” Brannaugh said, thinking of Orin.

  “That’s on their own heads, not ours. I hope that those who wish to mingle and possibly make new friends will find their way there. I wish you well, Brannaugh.” Murder flapped his wings and took to the air, leaving Brannaugh and Esma to watch him as he disappeared from sight.

  As soon as he was gone, Esma stepped from the shadows and smiled brightly at Brannaugh.

  “You want to go,” Brannaugh said, not a question, but a statement as a result of the look on her face.

  “I do,” she answered, her voice high-pitched almost like a child's.

  “Orin will not wish to attend. I’m not sure that I do, either,” Brannaugh answered.

  “But they know of us already,” Esma objected. “They even returned our food.”

  “We will see,” Brannaugh said, hefting the haunches over his shoulders. “Come, let’s take the meat back. They’ll be glad of its return.”

  ~~~

  Having delivered the stolen meat to Brannaugh, Murder returned to Aubreigne’s cottage to be sure there were no telltale signs that would let her know she was once again being gifted with stolen food and goods from around Whispers. He landed silently at her front door and took his time ensuring that there were no tracks, and no other items left in front of her door. Assured that Simon was efficient in his leaving her cottage appearing untouched, he decided to walk around to the back of the cottage. Every step of the way he looked at the ground, examined the outside of her home. There was nothing. He completed his examination of the entire cottage, then raised his wings in preparation of taking flight. But he had a thought. He remembered breathing on the glass of her window and finding hand and finger prints there years ago. That was what had let them know she was being stalked by The Dark One all those years ago. Relaxing his wings, he walked over to the window that looked out over the back yard, giving a clear sight all the way to the tree line in the far distance. Murder leaned over and opened his mouth, blowing a warm breath of air onto the window. His eye twitched when two very large hand prints could very clearly be seen in the fog his breath caused on the window.

  “Aubreigne!” he called as he stalked back around to the front of the cottage. “Aubreigne!” he insisted, knocking at her door. He could hear footsteps inside before finally the door was opened and she stood there, smiling at him.

  “Good morning, Murder,” she said, smiling pleasantly at him.

  He’d been ready to read her the riot act for encouraging, and maybe even harboring The Dark One in her home, but looking at her face, and glancing over her shoulder to see Deaumanique with strips of cloth tied into her hair to cause it to curl, he realized they were getting ready for the wedding. There was nothing untoward afoot. “Good morning,” he forced out, hoping his frustration of only moments earlier was not visible. “I came to be sure you have all you need for this morning.”

  “We do, thank you. We’re getting dressed now,” Aubreigne said, smiling brightly at him.

  “Very well, then. I’ll return home, and once ready, will return at 10:30A.M. as requested,” Murder said.

  “I was thinking about that. It’s not necessary for you to fly us to Enthrall’s. It’s only fifteen minutes of walking and we decided we’d rather enjoy the walk. It’s such a pretty day,” Aubreigne said.

  “Not today. Allow me to escort you both. It will be only moments, and you will arrive as fresh as the moment you stepped outside, with not even a hair out of place,” Murder said.

  Aubreigne smiled warmly. She knew what he was doing. He’d somehow gotten wind that The Dark One had returned, and he was trying to protect the
m. He was a good friend, and she appreciated it, but she didn’t need his protection. “I’m fine, Murder. So is Deaumanique. We’ll get there on our own. Just have everyone seated and ready, and you be waiting at the path as we discussed, and all will be fine,” Aubreigne said.

  “I’d prefer to escort you. If you prefer to walk, I’ll walk with you,” he offered.

  “Murder,” Aubreigne said, taking a step toward him and looking intently into his yellow eyes, “there is nothing out there that wishes me ill, or that I cannot handle, or that I am not aware of, or that I have not faced and defeated before. We will walk, we will enjoy our stroll through the beautiful lands we live in, and we will arrive relaxed and happy.”

  Murder regarded Aubreigne, not looking away from her gaze. She’d just in so many words admitted that she knew something was amiss and was not the least bit worried about it. He admitted to himself in that moment that he should have known better than to think anything could occur around Aubreigne or her daughter, and Aubreigne wouldn’t be aware of it. He gave a sharp nod of agreement. “Very well. I’ll be waiting at the path.”

  “Thank you,” Aubreigne said, stepping back.